It's been so long, I miss the world...and blogging

It's been so long since my last post. I have been thinking of constantly writing again, but I always end up in saying later, later, in my mind.

I always have loads of material floating around in my head. But there are periods that I don't want to spell it out loud (or in characters). But when I was feeling like opening myself again, letting it out again, I can't find time, and most often words that best express what's in my mind. I just wish I have the ability to write like Jane Austen (why her, cause I'm currently reading a book called "Jane Austen's Guide to Dating"..hahaha).

This year I've been reading lots of book, watching movies, meeting new people, and debating with myself, about a lot of things, and so many of them are interesting to tell. My first intention of having this blog was to have a record of interesting things (not in a very tangible way) I have found in this world, and share with you who care. But through time, I got cut off every now and then by different reasons.

To Jo-Ann, your comment to my last post has pushed me to start again. I wish you can also spare some of your busy time to write yours as well. I love your poems. And your other blog, it's so amusing. Please 3x, write again?

To Tisha, as a professional writer you should be ashamed of not having a post since August! ;))

Welcome to myself...

My rhythm

Music has always been my sweetest lemon. Here are some of my recent favorites:

Fix You -- Cold Play (Chris Martin looks absolutely cooler-than-brad-pitt here)
The Other Side of The World -- KT Tunstall (just my typical taste)
Bend and Break -- Keane (as good as somewhere only we know)
Cinta -- Melly feat. KD (work of a genius of Melly)
Semua Jadi Satu -- Tiga Diva (freshliest song ever recycled)
Sunrise -- Norah Jones (brings me back to my comfortable nest in Odaiba-A303)
Feel Good Inc -- Gorillaz (actually makes you feel good just to follow the rhythm)
Do You Realize -- Flaming Lips (a sleepy-floating sound)
Dealova -- Once (romantic sound)
Eleanor -- Low Millions (no comment)

Fix You--Cold Play*

   D
When you try to the best
        F#m     Bm A
But you don't succeed
  D
When you get what you want
   F#m      Bm A
But not what you need
  D
When you feel so tired
        F#m Bm A
But you can't sleep
D     F#m Bm A
Stuck in reverse

  D
When the tears come
 F#m          Bm A
Streaming down your face
 D
When you lose something
    F#m              Bm A
You can't replace
  D
When you love someone
      F#m            Bm A
But it goes waste
D       F#m Bm A
Could it be worse?

Reff:
G        A          G
Lights will guide you home
     A     G
And ignite your bones
A       D
And I will try fix you

Music: D F#m Bm A

D            F#m Bm A
High up above or down below
     D         F#m       Bm A
When you're too in love to let it go
      D  F#m     Bm A
If you never try you'll never know
         D    F#M Bm A
just what you're worth

...Reff:

Music: D G D A
         Bm G D A [2x]

D         G   D
Tears stream   down on your face
         A
When You lose something
   Bm
You cannot replace
    G          D     A
Tears stream   down on your face and I

D         G         D
Tears stream   down on your face
        A
You promise you I will learn
           Bm
From my mistakes
  G            D   A
Tears stream   down on your face and I

...Reff:

* http://www.thetabworld.com/

On Forbidden Love Once Again

I watched this movie last Friday night. It was called “Berbagi Suami”, which means Sharing Husband. The story was narrated by three women, who actually are not connected with each others. They have one thing in common though, they have to share their husband with other woman. They are somehow trapped in polygamy.

The movie was interesting because the theme is actually very close to our society, yet not a cliché, as we usually avoid discussing this sensitive topic. Why this is sensitive is because most people relate this problem with Islam, which explicitly excuses (not allows I would rather say!) polygamy. But Nia Dinata, the director, in my opinion has successfully presented it free from prejudice of any religion. She somehow managed to prove that this is all about selfishness and hypocrisy, rather than an issue of any religion. She pictured it (successfully) how inconvenient it is to have that kind of family, for both side: the man, let alone the woman. Although it was a comedy in genre (and we were laughing as a matter of fact), the message was clear that it was about tragedies.

The first woman is a doctor, who is smart, religious and has independent career, married to a successful, who symbolically looks religious, businessman. They have this looks like a perfect marriage, with an adorable son, who would then turn into a smart but cynical young guy. He loves his mother, but would always criticize her for being too submissive, and silent despite having discovered the not-so-favorable hobby of the husband, who ironically always behaves faultlessly at home. The mother defends herself that she simply follows what’s according to the religion, and that she does it for love. Meanwhile, she cries in silence and eventually becomes immune of heart-break pain. In the end, the husband, dying of heart attack, wishes to come and be treated at her home. For a moment she felt as if she is the winner. But having him home this time means she has to face the reality openly that she’s sharing the husband with other women (yes, the husband has more than two wives in fact). She swallows her pain, and presents herself always as a devoted wife, until the husband died peacefully after delivering one important message to his son, that he regretted the way he has chosen. The fun doesn’t worth the headache, he said. But in the funeral, when everybody was just about to leave, comes a teenager girl with a baby, crying and calling the husband. While we were all laughing, most of us were probably asking: can we really trust man’s words?

The second case was even weirder. An already too crowded family with two wives under the same roof, was expecting another one, because they are too busy with the kids, and the husband is “thirsty” again. Here, religion was never discussed, and love was something absurd. They all take the situation for granted, and enjoy what’s only left, the pleasure from sex (which belongs exclusively to the husband and the less-sensitive first wife) and the companionship among the wives (so much for a sweet lemon). The second and third wives run away together after they realize that they love each other more than they love the husband.

In the third story I was expecting that the woman will get the advantage this time. A very lovely young girl was asked to marry her boss. The guy (according to him) cannot leave his wife no matter how much he (according to him) loves the girl, and no matter how unhappy he was (according to him also) with his wife. Since they are Catholics, the guy has to forge a new ID with single status in order to marry her. He gives her a condominium, and treats her perfectly whenever they are together. Having all what she needs to call for a convenient life seems just perfect for her. She soon realizes that she really loves him, and would actually be happy without all the facilities anyway. But it turns out it’s only for a short period of time. When the first wife finds out, she kicks her (literally) out of her apartment provided by the husband. The husband came to see her the following day, only to say goodbye, with convincing tears and a bulky envelope of money. The family is leaving for the US! Although I thought that the guy truly loves her, still it’s a nonsense. Once again the woman suffers most.

In the above stories the victims were mostly the women, but the most victim of all is actually love, people abuse it! They justify stupid things, hurting themselves and others in the name of love. On the other hand, people refuse to settle with love because of things they consider more important, yet they can’t just leave it alone.

In the mood for blogging

I'm feeling so many things, but not able to let it all out. When writing seems to be the only way out, I can't find words to describe them.

I always think being able to write is cool. This idea gets even stronger when Carrie Bradshaw suddenly looks especially cool with her old apple notebook. I like reading, thus an ex boyfriend told me that I should try writing. I, on the hope that he was right about his proposition that anybody who like reading must be able to write well, did not jump to start my writing attempt, always with the feeling of not-in-the-mood-yet.

The truth is, I think writers are born. And if I were born to be one, I didn't need to wait for any special moment to start writing. So it was a matter of confidence, because I didn't to find it out at last that I can't really be a good writer. But even so, I was still obssesed with it. I tried many times to write diaries but never managed to have more than three posts.

And so I started this blog. In fact it was more for my friend Tisha, whom I knew is a damn good writer, that I started to explore blogging. And then we each created our own blogs, because I thought it wouldn't be fair for her if we both do posting with such a wide gap in quality of the posts, for one same blog hihihi.... Afterwards more of my friends strated up their blogs too.

Soon I found out that I lack of talent. Although my mind has always been full of imaginations I couldn't really express them well in writing. I also have some kind of barrier which prevent me from putting everything in blacks on whites. Meanwhile Jo-Ann was doing great with her poetry blog and got invited to the US to read out some of her works. Nyai's was also so rich in content I couldn't believe she's not starting her writing career professionally!

I decided (like I said in one of the previous posts) to stop blogging. For quite a long time I did not even have a slight intention to do it again. But then somehow I got it back. For some times I had every now and then ideas to write, but didn't have time to really sit and write them up. Only this couple of days that I finally do it. But this is it, finally I realize that I can't really "write". My stuff is always very so-so and shallow.

Recently I just edited my thesis as it will be published in a public finance journal (it's just a matter of luck, believe me!). In the process I realize how poor it was, I just wish that the committee won't scrutinize it deep enough to recognize its substandard quality hahaha... (I can't wait to spend the money, you see hehe)

Anyway, blogging for this past couple of days has been fun. It actually released me of "kibun-ga-warui", not to call it stress hehe...

On the cheek kiss

I have mixed feelings about my mentor who was my also my sensei, my supervisor as well as the person who actually sent me to Japan. I admire him for his brightness (gosh...such an old guy with sharp memory he is), hate him for his high standard I felt I could never met, and eventually come to acceptance that I love him like a father (or grandfather in his viewpoint;p). He always tells me that I look alike his granddaughter, whom I believe is a total Japanese... now how can a Japanese kid looks like me?;)

Last Sunday I had lunch with him, our (used-to-be) program coordinator and other Hitotsubashi alumni. We had that kind of get-together before and I always did it with the feeling more like doing an assignment from school. On that Sunday, although I was the one doing the arrangement (still with a feeling like I'm doing an assignment), I myself expected no more than a dry chat for courtesy that one should does once in a while, which worths a lavish free lunch.

But when he entered the room and hugged and kissed me on the cheek I felt a different warm already. Maybe it was my state of feeling or it was real sincerity I usually missed when dealing with them, I don't know. And then the conversation flowed nicely.

When one senior annoyingly asked me when I will get married because Javanese families would not like an old girl to be their daughter in law, I said I wouldn't like that kind of family as my in law anyway. He supported me exactly in a way how I needed it, and in an way that shutted that senior up ;). And when he told me not to forget inviting him when I finally get married, I really felt his sincere care.

After two years of avoidance and restrain, I now feel a real nice-to-see him feeling eventually. He will be fully retired by the end of this month (March 2006). I'm glad that I have the chance to know him this well and can now really look forward to seeing him again in the future. He has become one of my good memory about Japan.

I just realize I'm not singing anymore

I don't know why, and I don't know if it's going to be a permanent change, which I would consider as a defect of me. I don't even realize it until this morning in the bathroom. I'm not singing again, not in bathroom, not when I feel happy nor even when I went karaoke-ing a couple of times here, I lost it...really.

Bad Morning Day

Yesterday I was so eager to write a post about the incident I experienced in the morning of that day. Then I got so busy at the office that I didn't have really time to sit and write (for a blog post).

I have been jogging every-working-day morning now. I started it last week, and although I got a terrible stomachache (that I had to be taken home by my friend from the office after an almost 4 hours of throwing up everything I was trying to swallow), I still go on with the morning jogging (I am in fact rather proud of myself about this, considering I'm not so crazy about sporting).

So, yesterday was the 3rd jog I had, and I was enthusiastic by the fact that I wasn't arguing with myself whether or not I should jog that day. I took the opposite direction from the previous route (Actually, I just run a square-shaped track of road circling thef block where the house I live located on), but there was nothing special about it. Although there were only few people who should have already waken up by that time in the morning, yesterday some men were sitting and talking by the side of the road (which is not so uncommon here). I was having a dag-dig-dug (slightly faster heartbeat that you can feel) when approaching these bunch of (from afar looked like middle aged) men. And when I just passed them for a second, and almost felt relieved, one of them just shouted: "hey little sister, be careful, don't leave your butt behind". Agghhh I was so pissed off ... and disappointed that my fear was true. At home I checked if my jogging pants were too tight or seen through, but they were fine (I hate it when I realized that I almost blamed myself for looking for such trouble!)

Some people whom I told the story did not react the way I expected. Most of them think that it was just a bad joke and told me not to think about it too seriously. Somebody (from whom I was trying to look for some comfort) even said something like: it's because you're attractive, gosh...I hate him for the moment when he said that. I want to believe that he meant only compliment, but it could also sound like another kind of male-to-female offense.

I think when people start to think that kind of incident is not more serious than a joke (in Japan I could earn a million yen out if this), then we may have a serious problem with our society, or there just nobody care anymore?

PS. This morning I just felt lazy to get up early and run, but tomorrow I will start again and not let myself beaten by such bad joke.

On Return to My Country

I was back to my country at last. Although I cried at Narita, I never thought of my leaving-Japan so much before I arrived at my country for couple of days. Probably before my departure day, I was denying that my dreamy life has an ending, and then it finally reached to its end.

I was in Jakarta for several days before going to my hometown where my parents live and the majority memory of my childhood comes from. It was absurd that I found Jakarta much more annoying than I remember a year before when I came back for vacation. But that is why I don’t really believe that it was factual, I suspect that it was from my biased view, which was more influenced by my own state of mental and emotion. I did not catch any cold (which is a periodic and usual physical challenge for me) nor got thieved (which is not an extraordinary incident in a wild city like Jakarta). Could it be a sign of an improvement, I don’t know, but what I know was that I felt Jakarta was frightening (the feeling which I, compared to most people I know, never felt that bothering before).

When I visited my hometown for several weeks, I found some peace. I made myself busy taking care of my parent, who were fine like they always are, and our old house, which was helpless. I never have been bothered staying in that house except because of that house itself. You must think I am a spoiled kid, but actually I am not, it is my parent who has an unlimited patience, so for them a feeling such as disappointment of that house is still unthinkable. Later on, I will write about my parent, extraordinary people whom I love the most in this world.

When I’m back to Jakarta (for the second time I started to chill again when I took the bus from the airport), I got little amused by a small reunion, with my most respected Prof. Asanuma, in a vintage restaurant, named Kembang Goela (meaning: candy, gpicked by Fau from the reference of famous Jalan Sutra of Bondan Winarno). Once again, I got reunited with the Hitotsubashi people in Jakarta.

When suddenly my sister said she was going to Bali, I couldn’t think for other reaction except, I want to go with her. My eldest sister, despite of her snappishness, always fond of companies, let alone from a sweet little sister like me (please don’t throw up). So off we go to Bali (that was before the bombing, and I went to eat in one of the restaurant which was exploded later on). There were breath-taking things happened along the ways and during the days, probably I should tell them in another enty.

Back from Bali, I still feel that anxiety when I saw the streets of Jakarta. But I was sure that I will lose it again in time. Only time heals all wounds and erases memories. Slowly then I would be able to reconfigure my life.

Re-introduction* (Post-Hybernation)

It has been so long since the last time I wrote on this blog. There were so many things happened during my hibernation days. Those that I really want to share but I can’t, at least not at this moment. There were times that it felt like it was the hardest time in my life, but I must say that it also felt like the most interesting period of my life, a mental, emotional and at the same time a spiritual journey (whooahh)

I decided before, that I gave up blogging already, but just these past few days, I suddenly got this urge to write again. My first reason is that I miss my friends so much, but somehow I can’t reach them anymore, not directly. I’m not complaining about this, let alone blaming my friends for not being able to be reachable for me. It is myself who is so consumed by my own solitary thoughts, which has never been mine before (sshahh)

Therefore, I’d like to say my warmest hellos for Tisha and Jo-Ann in Manila, are you girls still with me, and Nyai in Tokyo, hope you’re doing fine with your study. Honestly I’d like to reach everybody else, but it was just the three of you that I know are reading this blog (bhuhuhuuu)

Secondly, I just read this book published from a very popular blog of an Indonesian youngster, very interesting. Not that I have an ambition to be able to publish a book out of this blog someday (that would be an annoying copycat, at least I want to have an original ambition, please).

So here I am, in this second day of 2006, starting my blogging again.

(it’s kind of surprising how I like this name despite of my just-occassionally-read-the-manga degree of familiarity to this name)
(* I first thought of resurrection, because I declared the death of this blog before, but I don’t like that word because it remind me of Alien, the movie… sorry but Ijust don’t like that movie)